


Turning Point

by alba17



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-08
Updated: 2011-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-20 06:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alba17/pseuds/alba17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny is forced to confront his feelings when Steve becomes seriously ill in jail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turning Point

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 1.24. Written for ariadnes_string's Running Hot fever comment fic meme. Thanks to ariadnes_string for the beta.

The call comes around 9:30, just as Danny’s setting up shop for the day. He rubs his eyes, morning sluggishness still tugging at his brain, coffee mug clenched in his hand. His office is now a corner of his apartment, a rickety Target desk set up next to his dying potted plant.

“Detective Williams?” The caller ID read Honolulu Police Department, which could mean almost anything. These days Danny spends lots of time dealing with various branches of HPD.

“You’re listed as next of kin.” Danny’s heart skids to a halt. “Commander Steve McGarrett. They need you to come in.”

Danny goes into full-on panic mode. He saw Steve a couple of weeks ago and everything had been fine. Well, as fine as it could be when you’re in solitary confinement. He reviews all the horrifying possibilities: suicide, knifed by another prisoner, or maybe Steve finally tried to break out and got injured or killed in the process. He doesn’t think Steve would commit suicide - he’s too focused on getting Wo Fat. On the rare occasions Danny has been allowed to visit him, Steve’s been a bit obsessed with that. It’s understandable - whatever gets him through this.

“What’s going on? What’s the matter?” Danny tries to keep his voice on an even keel, despite the hammering in his chest.

“He’s sick.” The woman hesitates. “You better just come in. They’ll tell you all about it in the hospital.”

Hospital? Jesus Christ. It must be serious or they wouldn’t call “next of kin.” He can’t really think about what it means that he’s listed as next of kin. He supposes it makes sense since Mary’s on the mainland and Steve has no other family. But still. Steve could have listed Chin, whom he’s known much longer, or an old SEAL buddy. He didn’t. He listed Danny. Danny feels a fresh weight settle on his shoulders.

 

Steve looks alarmingly small and defenseless in the hospital bed, his face grey and drawn, immobilized by tubes that connect him to a beeping, blinking machine. The sight is a kick in the chest – it’s such a contrast to his normal vitality. Even when Danny saw him in prison coveralls on previous visits, he retained his usual presence, although his face has thinned and his eyes are more prominent in his face. He’s still Steve, super ninja SEAL, constantly working the angles. Danny is frankly surprised the jail has held him for this long.

But here he is, laid low by an infection that raced through his body and took hold with alarming speed. He’s getting high doses of antibiotics, but the chances of it working are 50-50. Danny sighs and pulls the metal chair closer to the bed. It scrapes the floor with an angry squeal.

He called Rachel right after he got off the phone with HPD so she would know not to expect him. They’d taken a temporary apartment until Danny could get things wrapped up with Steve and Kono and they could move back to New Jersey. It was a tight squeeze, what with Danny working out of the apartment. But it was tolerable for now since they didn’t want to spend much money before the move and the baby. Danny had just been so happy and relieved they were all together again, ecstatic about Rachel’s pregnancy. It hardly mattered where they lived, as long as they were together. If he has any lingering doubts that the baby might not be his, he wraps them up in a little box and puts them on a high mental shelf along with other unwanted feelings - such as his occasional attraction to one Steve McGarrett.

He’s all about the future now, counting the hours until he can get off this goddamn island and back to civilization. Rachel asks him every day when they’re going to leave; he keeps telling her, soon, and he means it. But he can’t leave until he knows Steve and Kono are free and safe. Otherwise he won’t be able to live with himself.

Now this. His chest is uncomfortably tight as he watches Steve, his breath barely rising and falling under the flimsy hospital gown. One arm is uncovered by the sheet, the gown leaving his arm bare. Danny never did figure out what that tattoo was. He finds himself staring at it. Is it pre-Columbian? Celtic? Asian? He wishes he’d asked. He swallows hard when it strikes him that Steve could die before he finds out. Suddenly it seems incredibly important.

When he looks up, Steve is awake. He eyes are slits, but they’re open.

“Hey,” Danny says. He leans forward. “How are you?”

Steve tries to talk, but it doesn’t really come out and he has to clear his throat. “Fine,” he says when he finally gets a sound out.

“Uh-huh. Yeah. I can see that.” Danny gives him a watery smile.

“Be out of here tomorrow. Did you find that surveillance tape of Wo Fat?” He struggles to sit up in the bed, and then falls back with a wince. The last time they’d talked, Danny had been on the trail of a surveillance tape from a four-star restaurant where Wo Fat had been spotted.

“Okay, see, the thing is, even super SEALs have these annoying things called bodies. And I don’t know what you learned in sixth grade biology, but we learned about these microorganisms called bacteria. Have a nasty habit of taking up residence in bodies. And you have got a doozy in there, my friend. It’s gonna take more than a day for you to get back in fighting trim.” He isn’t surprised that Steve simply refuses to acknowledge that he’s sick.

Steve nods. “Yeah, so they tell me.” He picks up one of the tubes attached to his arm and examines it like he’s about to yank it out. Danny jumps up and puts a restraining hand on Steve’s forearm.

“Not gonna happen, you idiot. Do not even go there. What are you gonna do, storm out of here in your hospital gown?”

He’s probably planning on doing just that, the maniac.

Steve blows out a breath and seems to shrink back into the sheets, his hands curling into fists. “God damn it. Just…get me out of here, Danno.” He shoots him a tortured look that makes Danny’s stomach twist with emotion. Danny grabs his hand, not really aware of what he’s doing, and squeezes.

“I will. Danno’s got it all under control. Leave it all to me.” Like Steve could give up control even if he wanted to. But if he pulls through this, Danny will get him out. No matter what it takes.

Steve’s bloodshot gaze holds Danny’s and the tension in Steve’s body seems to ease a bit. His hand is reassuringly large in Danny’s, and Danny moves his thumb across Steve’s palm in a comforting motion. A small part of Danny’s brain wonders whether it’s appropriate to hold Steve’s hand like this. But it’s a quiet voice, easily quelled by the overwhelming feeling of rightness. Because now he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. His only thought is that Steve has to get better because the alternative is unthinkable. It’s bad enough that Steve is in jail and they’re in this mess. If he could just _will_ Steve to get better…

Then everything goes to hell. Steve’s color pales abruptly, his eyelids flutter close and the machine starts beeping at a scary rate.

Jesus Christ. Danny tamps down his panic and looks around frantically for some kind of buzzer to call the nurse. When he can’t find it, he resorts to yelling and frantic gestures. Finally the nurse shuffles in, looking none too concerned. She glances at the machine, takes Steve’s vitals, then mutters some words into the intercom, code something or other, who knows. Danny scavenges his memory of the many times he’s been in the ER since moving to Hawaii, but for the life of him can’t remember what that one means. It doesn’t matter, because several people immediately bustle in with a gurney and heave Steve onto it, his limbs disturbingly floppy and lifeless.

Danny’s heart is pounding away like a jackhammer. He watches helplessly as they roll Steve away, feeling paralyzed and terrified. Nobody pays him any mind, as if he’s a part of the wallpaper. Finally somebody takes pity on him and tells him to go to the waiting room. They don’t know anything and it might be awhile, they tell him.

In the waiting room, Danny circles aimlessly, a hand shoved into his hair, jumping out of his skin with anxiety. He considers calling Rachel but he’s held back by the irrational belief that diverting his attention from Steve would interfere with his recovery. Every brain cell has to be devoted to worrying about Steve because otherwise, well, he might not make it.

The hospital coffee tastes like dirt and everything fades into the color of ash as he waits. He hears announcements on the intercom, nurses talking to each other, carts rolling by, but it’s all a haze. Other people come and go in the waiting room, but he doesn’t really notice them.

What if Steve doesn’t make it after all? What if his superhuman powers fail him this once and he doesn’t pull through? Danny has a vision of living continuously in this grey and inert state in which nothing means anything, and everything feels hopeless. It’s intolerable, is what it is. He can’t imagine existing like that. That’s what life without Steve would be like.

He sits up straight, stock still. Without Danny even being aware, the man has finagled his way into his heart and soul and taken up residence in a way that nobody else has, not even Rachel. Everything is crystal clear now – he can’t believe he didn’t see it before. He throws the coffee cup in the trash and lurches up out of the seat. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do, but he can’t sit still anymore.

Later in the day, Steve’s back in his hospital room. He’s not out of the clear, but the immediate crisis is over. When Danny sees him, he’s so relieved, he wants nothing more than to throw his arms around him and hang on for dear life, but he restrains himself. For one thing, Steve’s still connected to all those damn tubes and he’s afraid of jarring something lose and making the machines beep distressingly again. For another, he doesn’t know how Steve would react.

So he holds back the urge and watches Steve sleep. Probably better for his recovery anyway; an unexpected armful of Detective Williams might not be the best thing for someone just out of intensive care, especially if it’s more intimacy than Steve is comfortable with. There have been moments when the connection between them is a bright unbreakable cord: trust and affection braided together with the hot pulse of attraction vibrating at the edges. Then it will pass and they’re once again ordinary partners and friends.

Now Danny’s determined to yank that cord and see where it leads. He doesn’t have any choice.

 

Afternoon drifts into evening, the only indication of the passage of time the arrival of Steve’s pink foam tray of dinner, its bowl of red jello and carton of milk reminding Danny of school cafeteria lunches.

Steve stirs as the hospital worker leaves the room.

“Hey, don’t try to get up,” Danny says. He can’t help putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder just for the physical contact. It’s reassuringly warm and solid. “You practically just died.”

Steve frowns. “I did not.”

“Afraid you did. Just look at your chart.”

Steve looks down at the foot of the bed as if he actually is going to examine his chart to double check Danny’s words, but he doesn’t. “I guess I was out of it for awhile.”

“Just a little, yeah.”

“What happened?” Steve rubs a hand over his face, wan and drained.

“Code blue, purple, something or other, I don’t know. They took you away and didn’t really tell me anything, which, I gotta tell you, is kind of unprofessional. I mean, who are these people, I’m standing right here having a freaking heart attack because I don’t know if you’re coming out of this thing alive, whether I’m even going to see you again, and nobody says anything. I just might file a complaint. There’s gotta be some kind of medical board or something, hospital board, I don’t know what.” When he pauses for a breath, he sees a small smile tugging at Steve’s lips.

“Calm down, Danno. I made it, didn’t I?” Steve’s eyes are soft. Some color’s returned to his face; he must be feeling better. “So…you were having a heart attack because you thought you might not see me again?”

For a moment Danny can’t really speak, his throat is too thick. He takes a deep, clearing breath. “Yeah. But you made it,” he says quietly. “I…,” he starts, not really knowing what he’s going to say. “You know, I was thinking out there, while I was waiting.”

“Really? Glad to know your higher functions still work.”

Danny gives him a flat look. If Steve has the energy to be sarcastic, he really must be improving.

“Yeah, asshole. Don’t interrupt. What I wanted to say was, I need to rethink some things, maybe reprioritize some stuff.” Steve looks serious again and a little confused, eyebrows furrowed. “Me and Rachel, I thought things were going well there again, but now I’m having second thoughts.” He clears his throat. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything yet, maybe this is stupid. But who knows when he’ll see Steve again. He has to get it out. Even if Steve doesn’t share his feelings – and he has absolutely no idea whether he does or not - he needs to say it.

“What do you mean? I thought you were back together.”

“We are, well, we were. Look, I don’t know what I’m saying, I just…today I realized some things.” Damn, this was hard. “When they carted you away, I kind of freaked out. I thought about what it would be like if you actually died and it scared me.” He lays his hand on the edge of the bed a couple of inches from Steve’s body, palm up like an entreaty. “Steve. I don’t know what’s going to happen with Rachel, but what I realized today was I have feelings for you.”

There. Danny feels kind of shell-shocked, actually saying the words, but now it’s out. He watches Steve’s face for a reaction.

“That’s it? Danny, that’s hardly news.” Steve brushes his fingers against Danny’s on the bed.

“What?” Danny tries not to squawk, but really, what the fuck? Talk about anticlimactic.

“Well, I figured that. I mean, with the air heart thing and all. I was waiting for you to tell me with, you know, actual words, but then you got back together with Rachel, so I thought it wasn’t happening.” Steve looks off into the middle distance, not meeting Danny’s eyes.

“Wait a minute, what?” Danny feels like he’s seriously behind the eight ball here. “You were waiting for me to say something?” His mind scrambles to catch up. “So does that mean…?”

Steve takes his hand and meets his eyes with a fond look. “Yeah, Danny, it means I have feelings for you too,” he says softly.

The words sink in and Danny stares at him. “Um.”

“Really, Danny? Now you have nothing to say?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Come here.” He pats the bed.

Danny clears his throat, a hand to his mouth. “I wouldn’t want to, um,” Danny gestures at the machine and the tubes, fearful of disturbing something life-sustaining. He tries to ignore the way his heart threatens to jump right out of chest.

“I think a trained Navy SEAL can maneuver around a few tubes, Danny.”

“Again with the SEAL thing, Steve, will you ever shut up about that?” Danny sits gingerly on the edge of the bed, keeping a close eye on the medical paraphernalia.

“Not until you stop talking about how great New Jersey is.” Steve, nestled back in the bed, brings an arm around Danny’s waist. Danny settles into it cautiously; he craves the contact but is worried about Steve’s well-being. “Speaking of which, what about Rachel?” Steve says.

Danny sighs and rubs his forehead. Thinking about Rachel made his head hurt. He’d rather concentrate on how warm Steve’s arm and hand feels through his shirt. “I don’t know, I really don’t know. I’ll have to figure it out. This is all pretty confusing.”

“We’ll take it one step at a time. Just…don’t leave Hawaii. Don’t go back to New Jersey with her.” His voice sounds strained and his arm briefly tightens around Danny.

Danny twists around to look at him. “God, Steve. Do you think I would…After everything…” Somehow he’s speechless again. Only Steve has that effect on him.

Steve meets his gaze, and then quickly looks away. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t have any right to ask that.” His flush is easy to see in his face, pale from illness and lack of sunlight.

Danny cups his jaw in his hand, forces him to look at him. “You are so wrong, Commander McGarrett. So very wrong. Let me show how wrong you are.” He leans in and kisses him, slowly and thoroughly, careful not to press his body down on Steve’s despite the incipient fluttering of desire low in his belly.

When they part, Steve’s eyes are glazed and he looks disoriented. Danny knows the feeling. “Um, yeah. I can see I was wrong,” Steve says. “I think I need a little more demonstration though.” He pulls Danny back towards him with a hand around his neck.

“Happy to oblige,” Danny murmurs against his lips.


End file.
